


Cruel professor, studying romances

by Xicana



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adult Hermione Granger, Dubious Consent, F/F, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Not Beta Read, One Shot, Teacher-Student Relationship, Young Bellatrix Black Lestrange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:34:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28401753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xicana/pseuds/Xicana
Summary: It's difficult settling in after a wizarding war, but even more so when you continue to do the wrong thing.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange
Comments: 6
Kudos: 108





	Cruel professor, studying romances

**Author's Note:**

> As per usual with all my works, this is unedited, but I hope you enjoy it!

The brunette sighs with relief as she sits down in the cramped office, shaking the memory from her head. She stares at the clock on the wall, a gift from Molly, a replica of the same device found in the Weasley household. Only this time with the addition of Harry and herself on it. 

The nine hands race across the intricate designs, and Hermione's hand just sits, as if taunting her with its inaction. A reflection of herself in the very moment. The brunette sits there hands open in her lap, looking for inspiration, motivation, anything really, to strike her at any given moment. 

Bracing for anything and everything, she takes note of her hand on the clock moving faster than her desire to continue with her job's mundane tasks. 

Hermione huffs out a laugh at the irony of her predicament. 

The brightest witch of her age, the most driven of the golden trio, and the most passionate for knowledge became the most tired of them all. 

She's hit a dead end. 

How fantastic. 

The sound of the clock, once comforting, now ticked with a rigor that agitated the brunette beyond comprehension. Tempted to blast the device to bits, she grips the vinewood tighter between her fingers. 

The sound of a knock on her door brings her back to the real world, where a deep desire to destroy the items within the confined walls of this room she calls an office burrows beneath the sweet smile. 

A redhead pokes through the door, and Hermione bites back an exasperated groan. 

"Came to visit, Hooch." The youngest Weasley comes waddling in with the most adorable mannerisms the brunette has witnessed. 

It repulses her.

"You look lovely, Ginny." 

The redhead's hands lay gently on the swell of her belly. A baby meant for greatness. A child conceived out of happiness, meant to fuel the Wizarding World's move forward.

Hermione twitches at the soft sigh from the girl as she sits in front of her. She tries her best, really she does, to not allow annoyance to dictate the visit, but it's easier thought than done. 

"Why weren't you at dinner this Sunday?" 

Ah, that's why it's difficult. 

No matter how hard she tries to grow and stem from the dependency on the same four people in her life, it just isn't enough. 

The threatening words from the week before flash in her mind, reminding her to follow directions. 

"Ginny, please." She feels the vinewood bend with the force of her grip, and the slight thrill rushes through her at the careless manner in which she treats her wand. "I sent an owl. I hardly meant to ruffle any feathers." 

Kind brown eyes bore into her apathetic stare. 

"Ron--"

Her patience evaporates instantaneously. 

"Has nothing to do with my absence. I broke it off, but I just missed dinner. I had other plans." She feels a twinge of remorse when her biting tone tears through the air, but her relief is instantaneous when Ginny's words poised in her mouth die off. "I love you guys, but I need some space."

Understanding shines in Ginny's kind brown eyes. Hermione looks away from their direct line of sight, guilt promising to rip her open. "Well, we love you." A gentle hand lands on her desk, palm facing upward, an invitation that Hermione takes.

Her hand feels reassuring, and Hermione kicks herself for not realizing another problem was how touch-deprived she seemed. Ginny's pale hand tightens around her dark one. The fight leaves her body. "I'm sorry, Ginny." 

She walks Ginny to her destination and decides a bath might help.

...

..

.

Gasps followed by small moans echo throughout the bathroom.

The brunette groans in frustration as she chases sweet release. 

Every time she finally nears the brink of pleasure, and she sees the precipice, it is as if a lack of intimacy derails her. 

Desperate for release and worked up beyond belief, she smacks her head onto the tile behind her in the bath before doubling her efforts. The sound echoes the empty room, and Hermione huffs in irritation. 

The occasional drip of water from the faucet syncs up with her labored breathing, so with a sigh, she leans back, closing her eyes. She's not going to get relief anytime soon, so she might as well calm her breathing. 

**Drip**

Should she even consider it?

**Drip**

She's sure Pansy would give her a hard time, but in the end, she'd find some pleasure. 

**Drip**

Right?

**Drip**

"Professor. Granger, what are you doing here so late?" 

With a yelp, Hermione fully submerges herself into the bathwater. 

"Ms. Black, how in the world did you even get in here?" 

She glares at the smirking dark-haired trust fund nuisance and glowers further when her smile broadens. White teeth flash in stark contrast to the ruby red lips, and Hermione looks for nearby expedient escape routes.

How the girl got into the bathroom is beyond her because the brunette made sure to seamlessly charm the perimeter to notify her of any attempts to gain entry. 

Hermione stares at the seventh year student, standing in the middle of the large room. 

Dark set eyes swim with undisguised appreciation, and Hermione's breath hitches at the raw emotion swirling in them as they roam her face. 

"I saw Weasley leaving your office earlier this evening." A pale hand ran to toss a chaotic mess of curls away from the striking features of Bellatrix Black. 

Red pouty lips, bold brows, wild hair, and cheekbones carved from the template of perfection meet Hermione's vision. Grey eyes bore into her face, and Hermione holds her head high while looking for methods to escape the situation. 

"This is inappropriate, Black." She summons a towel and manages to scoot back up onto the ledge with the item blocking her from staring eyes. "Why are you here past curfew? You're not on monitoring duty tonight." 

"I'd hardly say it's inappropriate." Red lips part, revealing a dangerous set of pearly white teeth. "The only thing that's inappropriate is you disregarding my words." Hermione looks away. "I didn't want to see any of them near you. I could've sworn I told you that last week."

The brunette shivers when a flash of anger strikes through her. She feels her patience evaporate along with the steam rising in the bathroom as the younger girl disregards her comment. Hermione coaxes herself into a deescalating mindset to avoid an explosive outcome. 

"It's late, Ms. Black. I'll see you in class tomorrow." Possessions in her bag and the towel fastened with a small charm Hermione moves to go around the girl. 

"Take another step, and I'll ruin you." 

The brunette halts her steps and stares incredulously at the tile on the floor as she processes the girl's words. 

"Did you just threaten me?" She all but whispers into the bathroom.

"Just because Voldemort is gone doesn't mean things have changed, does it?" Hermione's eyes narrow, and her mouth pinches together in irritation. 

"That's why you're back so soon teaching at Hogwarts." Bellatrix moves closer to the brunette, and she instinctively takes two steps backward. "Didn't you just defeat bigotry and accomplish your task to change the wizarding world?" 

Hermione's chest heaves with every painstaking breath she takes. It singes her throat raw. Emotions elevated. She makes a last-ditch effort to reel in her Gryffindor mouth. 

Looking back, she curses her stupidity in assuming a born and bred Slytherin would magically learn self-restraint and shut their mouths. 

"Oh," Bellatrix's smirk deepens, "that's right. I nearly forgot that you didn't dismantle the institutions or power structures." Hands clasped in a faux apologetic gesture, she continues. "Leave it to the societal blemishes to forget the most important steps following a social revolution." 

Hermione, having heard enough, shoves past the dark-haired girl now directly in her path. Only for a hand to grip her elbow and dig their blunt nails into her skin. 

"Now," a gust of warm breath ghosts over Hermione's overheated ears, "what was the weasel doing in your office?" 

"If you let me go, I'll let this entire interaction go without repercussions," Hermione speaks clearly into the deathly quiet room. "Think things through before you use your petulant rich kid mindset." 

Bellatrix scoffs before she pushes them past the precipice of return. 

"I'm the heir to the Black fortune and family." A hand grips into her curls and yanks her into the tiled wall. With a yelp, Hermione narrowly avoids smashing her face against it. "If I want you bent over the desk and ready, then it's what I'll get. If I say, at this moment, fuck the school bylaws, then, by all means, I will publically announce our coupling." A hand runs over the back of her exposed thighs in a rough caress. 

"If I say 'wet, wanton, and willing,' it means exactly that, _Professor._ " 

Razorsharp teeth bite down on Hermione's lobe before they tug. The brunette gasps at the sensations firing across all of her senses. Bellatrix's breath oozes like molten lava and burns its way into Hermione's skin. 

The dark-haired girl burrows herself into the depths of her very being. Hermione's intimates spark as the fire erupts in her loins. 

"I thought we handled this last time." Hermione's eyes lose focus as she's propelled into her memories by Bellatrix's words. 

**_Hermione bites back a cry as it builds in the back of her throat. It threatens to escape with every thrust propelling her forward—a lone hand tears through her hair and yanks backward. The brunette's back arches, and a small hiss escapes her dry lips._ **

**_The same strong grip on her hair yanks her back onto the fingers, splitting her open._ **

**_The banister ice cold burns into her overheated skin, and Hermione's skin flushes against the harsh winter night air._ **

**_She feels the course fabric of the other person's dress on her thighs as she brokenly mewls. The sheer animalistic nature of being taken outside of a public event nearly sends her spiraling over the edge. Still, the hand leaving her hair caresses her back with a promise of more to follow. So she holds off._ **

**_Firm grip on her hip, Hermione feels surrounded by pleasure. The fingers are relentless in their assault as more moisture pools to ease the merciless pounding._ **

**_She feels the curls drag across her exposed back, and her breath hitches when she feels the puffs of hot air in her ear. The arm previously on her hip wraps around her middle and holds her in place._ **

**_"Morgana," pouty lips mouth at her ear, "who would've thought that Granger, the Golden Girl, would be begging for me to fuck her?"_ **

**_Hermione, completely out of her mind and in search of relief, grinds herself onto the still hand._ **

**_"To absolutely ruin her."_ **

**_The brunette's eyes roll when the dark-haired beauty's fingers swiftly restart their assault with renewed vigor._ **

"Christ, Bellatrix!" She shoves at the younger girl and moves to escape. 

The brunette makes it a few steps before Bellatrix reacts with a perfectly executed body bind, sending the brunette slamming to the ground. Her wand skids across the bathroom floor. 

Normally, that's enough to stop most, but Hermione isn't most. They both know this, and Bellatrix, well aware of this, dives to pin the brunette just as Hermione, without a wand, mutters the countercurse. 

Bellatrix lands on the brunette pinning her to the ground, and Hermione seethes at her inability to throw the brat from on top of her.

"I could ruin your entire career." 

Hermione stills at the reiterated threat as she takes note of the wild and detached look in the pitch-black eyes. 

Fear and discomfort stir in her stomach as she realizes what's happening. 

"It didn't mean anything." She squirms and mentally goes through her arsenal of wandless spells. "I was inebriated at the ball, and you are still my student." 

"Why don't you want me?" 

"I--What?" She shoves the girl off of her and manages to stand. She mentally applauds herself for thinking to charm the towel secured. "You're too young, Bellatrix--"

"The bloody fuck I am." Bellatrix steps forward, and Hermione's eyes notice her clenched jaw. "I didn't hear a single complaint that night because all I heard was you--"

Hermione's fear twisting in her stomach produced a vomit like reaction. However, instead of regurgitating her evening tea, she threw up words to end the encounter as soon as possible. 

"I don't want you, Bellatrix!" 

She practically sees the hitch in the girl's breath before she hears it as she ultimately decides to kill the issue in one swift go. 

"You're intelligent and a beautiful person, but I don't want to be with you." Hermione takes a deep breath. "You can have anyone you want. Please leave me alone." 

Hermione moves toward the bathroom door and tries to exit the room before the younger girl snaps out of her trance. She knows it's best to leave the girl alone and avoid the entire encounter pretending it never happened. 

A plethora of curses and hexes explode from the young girl's wand leaving destruction in her path. Her screams of fury travel to the exits, but Hermione refuses to look back, breaking into a sprint.

...

..

.

The following weeks go by without issues. 

Hermione's nerves on edge. She waits for the girl to uphold her promises. The threats keep running on a loop in her thoughts. She strategically avoids looking in the young Slytherin's direction. Although Hermione actively avoids calling on her during class, she makes sure it never appears that way to others. She's sure of it. 

A weight lifts off her shoulders when summer break lets out for Hogwarts. The remainder of the baggage leaves her when she places her letter of resignation on McGonagall's desk. 

Hermione spends the majority of her time at work. 

Her new place of business. A departure from her career-focused self. Hermione builds a bookshop in Diagon Alley from the ground up. She remembers opening the front doors for the first time, the sound of customers swarming into the famous golden girl's bookshop. 

However, as always, It's too good to be true.

In fact, her delight lasts for a couple of weeks because right through those front doors in walks Bellatrix Black. The frustrating girl waltzes inside the shop with a smirk plastered across her features. 

A greeting dies on her lips as she takes in her old pupil. "Nice to see you again, _Hermione_."


End file.
